


Truly Held

by kishun



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Belgium Grand Prix 2022, M/M, first win
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 13:57:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22970764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kishun/pseuds/kishun
Summary: Hesitation is a loser’s game and Lando’s not willing to play it.
Relationships: Lando Norris & Max Verstappen, Lando Norris/Carlos Sainz Jr
Comments: 6
Kudos: 46





	Truly Held

**Author's Note:**

> I got an idea at three in the morning, so here you go folks. It's wholesome, I promise.
> 
> This is fiction. Please keep this story on Ao3.

It’s easy to overthink. You think everything over and over again, making sure you aren’t missing a detail, too afraid that something important is right in front of you. 

It’s all Lando does.

Except for when he’s in the car. The thoughts and specifics go away, rushing to the corner of their mind. As if they’re afraid of the man he becomes when those lights go out. Those thoughts are too weak against someone with the willpower and confidence Lando only has when he’s racing. 

It’s all a blur, really. The clear, sensitive image he holds onto is that of the track in front of him. Warning signs coming to him in the form of debris, communication coming from his radio and trust in his hands. 

Sweating through his gloves, gripping the steering wheel; hoping only for the next overtake, for the next defense. He gives everything to nothing but the car. Only it has him, only the car is his sword and armor. 

Sense is useless, except for what’ll make him win. Tracing the painted lines of the asphalt every coming lap, knowing the gap between him and the next car is becoming smaller. 

He pushes because his engineer tells him to. Hesitation is a loser’s game and Lando’s not willing to play it. It doesn’t matter that he can see the papaya of the car in front, it doesn’t matter if he knows whose in that car, none of it matters.

They’re side by side, not a car in front of them. For a second, Lando looks to his left. He sees the makings of a dark grey, red and yellow helmet. It’s a choice to keep going, to continue to fight.

Lando could stop, he could settle for second best.

But it’s not who he is. He’s learned the hard way that regret is a sorrowful lake; there are some mistakes he’s not willing to repeat. 

His foot on the pedal, breathing in the space of his helmet. The feeling weighted on his shoulders makes him want to scream, makes him want to yell. 

It’s indistinguishable from joy, anger or surprise. It's all in one. Joy of winning, anger for being selfish, surprise for everything else.

The line comes to him in paused moments. He feels tears before he even gets there, and then he crosses without thought.

He can’t overthink this.

A win in Belgium, his first win. And perhaps, everything he’s done has been worth it. Maybe, just maybe, he’s good enough.

Champagne tastes good and _ fuck, _ has he missed this feeling. To his right, Carlos is drenched in the same Carbon dripping from Lando’s own hair. He smiles up at Lando, the _ I’m proud of you and I love you _ smile. A wide, unbearingly happy, bright eyed smile. 

Lando smiles back, breathing in like he might lose his balance.

Glancing at his hand, at the thin gold band on his ring finger. And back to the sea of orange that makes up the crowd. He laughs and looks to Max on his left. 

Max is too busy drinking some of that sweet champagne, like a lovable fool. Max’s eyes catch his friend’s, and he shrugs jokingly to Lando. 

Overthinking is not an option.

The trophy truly held in his hands, Lando yells out without restraint, sound echoed through the crowd in cheers and whistles. 

**Author's Note:**

> I really had no idea what I was writing until I started typing. The outcome was this. I like it. I hope you guys enjoyed reading and as usual, I hope you all have a blessed day.


End file.
